We're All Mad Here
by Ratt9
Summary: 100 drabble prompt challenge. Includes short stories related to multiple characters, pairings, genres, time frames, everything. Warning for occasional dark themes.
1. Introduction

**So I found a list of drabble prompts and I'm thinking about just going for it and trying to do it. I'm pretty busy with college and work so I don't know how frequently I'll update, but I'll give it a try. There may be more than one update in one day. Characters and time frame will change from drabble to drabble. Same goes for genre. Basically I'm going to do whatever I want while trying to stay away from things that have been done before. Yay! Also some may be longer than the typical drabble.**

* * *

_**+introduction+**_

The _thing_ wouldn't stop crying. It was wrinkly and squishy and weird looking. His mother called it his 'sister' as though it counted as a person. What use was it? All it did was eat and poop and it lay around sleeping, but never at the right times. It screamed and kept four year old Light awake at night and when he asked his mother why it did that she said it was because it was 'hungry'.

Hungry? Talk about unfair. When Light was hungry at night he had to wait until morning before he could eat anything. He wasn't allowed to sit in his bed and scream his head off until his mother came to him with a sandwich. He would be punished in a heartbeat. Why didn't she ever punish the _thing_? Light was a good boy. He didn't shout.

And anyway, how is it possible to be hungry every godforsaken hour?

'This is your little sister, Light,' his father reminded him when Light brought his concerns to his attention. 'She's going to look up to you one day. You're going to have to be a good role model and take care of her.'

Light hoped that 'taking care of her' didn't involve changing its diaper. He didn't want any part of that.

As time went on the _thing_ became less of a _thing_ and more of a _her_. _Her_ name was Sayu. Light lay on the floor balancing on his stomach watching her busying herself with shoving her entire tiny hand into her mouth and sucking on it. Light sighed. Gross.

"Do you really have to do that?" he said, dully. Now five years old, he felt he was far above such childish actions. "It's disgusting."

Sayu looked at him with happy, glistening brown eyes and giggled. She resumed devouring her hand.

"Do you even understand a word I'm saying?" Light sighed. He hoped she would grow up soon so being around her wouldn't be so unbearable.

She giggled again and clapped her hands. "Ight!" she cried.

Light looked at her in confusion. Did she just speak?

"I beg your pardon?"

She bared a wide grin, obviously proud of herself. "Ight." She poked him with her index finger as though identifying him.

Light blinked, feeling oddly touched that her first word was his name but at the same time trying not to wince at her butchering of the first consonant.

"Yes, that's me. I'm Light. Can you say your name? Your name is Sayu."

Sayu smiled. "Ight."

"No...Saa-yuu. Can you say Sayyyyuu?"

"Iggghhtt."

Light sighed, but found new interest in this young child. Sayu became less of a _her_ and more of a _sister_. From then on, Light felt a strong desire to protect her. It was sort of like an introduction after they'd already met.

* * *

**I hope that wasn't too bad. I've hardly written at all in like a year and a half so I'm extremely rusty. I also haven't seen Death Note in ages. I'm hoping these will help me improve. Thank you for reading! Please review and tell me what you think.**

**~Ratt Kazamata, 2/23/2014**


	2. Complicated

**I love Matsuda to death and he is easily my favourite character in Death Note. You might be seeing a lot of him in this. I know this one is kind of long but once I got started I couldn't stop.**

* * *

_Summary: After Light is dead, Matsuda befriends the grieving Yagami women. Specifically, Sayu. Warning for dark themes and one slightly graphic part at the end._

* * *

**+complicated+**

Something feels wrong about being back at the Yagami house now that both the Chief and Light are no longer around. The flowers Matsuda carry look colourless in the overcast evening sky and in his arms feel awkward and heavy like his conscience.

Sachiko, a welcoming host even in the worst of times, greets him with a hug and warm smiles, but Matsuda can see that her mask is the same as the one he wears every day. He wonders if she pines for normalcy as he does and with that in mind he grips the flowers more tightly.

The interior of the house looks the same as ever but it is lacking its former atmosphere; what once was soft and loving is now shrouded in tragedy, unimaginable horrors dwelling between the cracks in the walls. Light's younger sister lurks in the corner of the room like a dormant shadow, silent and watchful with wide eyes that remind Matsuda of a certain ghost from the past who tried to save the world and nearly succeeded. He wonders if her eyes can see his guilt.

'Come say hello, Sayu,' Sachiko urges her, gently. 'Matsuda-san was kind enough to bring you flowers.'

Matsuda doesn't mention that the flowers are actually for the both of them. As soon as Sachiko says they are for Sayu, Matsuda can't imagine them ever having been for anyone else. This is what makes sense to him now.

Wordlessly, Sayu steps forward and makes her way to him, her walk slow and unsteady as though she is still trying to figure out quite how to do it. He can tell by her eyes that she is haunted by ghosts so often she has nearly become one. She appears almost painted, as though she was once a work of art that jumped right off the artist's canvas before he had been able to finish giving her colour. Something about her seems morbidly incomplete.

Matsuda pulls a flower out of the bunch and hands her a rose the colour of blood. It is more vibrant than anything else in the entire room but she just stares at it and whispers, 'It's not good enough.'

Somehow, Matsuda understands.

* * *

The next time Matsuda goes to visit Sayu, she isn't there. Sachiko tells him that she has her own apartment now and makes a living helping to arrange funerals. She writes down the address for him and Sachiko's eyes beg him to see her.

* * *

It takes Sayu a long time to answer the door and Matsuda knows that it has something to do with having installed too many extra locks on it. Matsuda knows that she won't let anything surprise her anymore. She somehow appears simultaneously to be both more alive and more dead to him and he isn't sure how to feel about that.

The impression one would get immediately upon seeing Sayu's apartment is that whoever lives there must be insane. The walls, the ceiling, the windows-they are all covered in paintings. Multiple easels cradling unfinished artwork are scattered throughout the rooms. Even though it is daytime the rooms are dark and a quick glance at the ceiling shows that Sayu has removed all of the light bulbs from the fixtures.

'Everything looks better in candlelight anyway', Sayu tells him, quietly. Candles are everywhere, flickering as though sound alone is enough to put them out. Everything about Sayu is quiet and with everything he's seen in the past six years Matsuda wouldn't be surprised if her candles are sound sensitive as well.

'All of your paintings are grey,' he observes, for lack of anything better to say.

'Colours don't make sense anymore. None of them are good enough.'

'What would make a colour a good colour?' Matsuda asks, trying to understand.

'One that can express that which I cannot express through words.'

* * *

Matsuda returns the next week and brings her as many different colours of paint as he can find. It doesn't do anything to relieve the guilt of having killed her brother but it's a start. She takes them from him and the only thing she says in the entire two hours he's there is 'It's not good enough.'

* * *

'Were you there when my brother died?'

The question comes out of nowhere, surprising Matsuda and making him look up. 'What?'

'My brother. Light. Did you see him die?'

Matsuda feels his blood turn to ice. Sayu sits calmly in her seat, paintbrush in hand, her wide, hollow brown eyes watching his every move. There is a sort of emptiness in them that Matsuda cannot quite read and maybe doesn't want to.

Matsuda wants to say '_Yes I saw your brother die I'm the one who shot him his blood was everywhere I pulled the trigger he screamed at me he was trying to kill someone I had to stop him I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm so sorry_,' but instead he says, 'No, I didn't see it happen. Why are you asking me this?'

Sayu gives a long shrug. 'I was hoping you could describe it. I want to see what it looks like to be painted.'

Matsuda has never been so horrified.

* * *

Sayu continues pressing Matsuda for more about Light. It's not constant, just occasional, but it's enough to make Matsuda nervous. He thinks that maybe he should stop seeing Sayu but he also feels that it's his duty to her brother. He wouldn't have wanted her to be alone like this.

'What did you think of Light?' she asks casually, painting a portrait of her apartment in which one of her candles has fallen over and burned all of her artwork to ashes. 'He was pretty smart, wasn't he?'

Matsuda takes a deep breath. 'Yes, I would say he was one of the smartest people I've ever met. He was brilliant.'

Sayu hums thoughtfully and continues with her artwork. 'He could have gone far in life, being as smart as he was.'

Matsuda says nothing. Light was a god.

* * *

Sometimes Matsuda thinks Sayu is crazy. It always makes him feel terrible to think that because that would mean that maybe he's crazy too, but she makes it difficult with her talk of ghosts whispering to her, giving inspiration for her paintings. It's like she worships the paper she draws on.

Matsuda tells Sachiko that Sayu is doing _just fine._

* * *

'My brother was Kira, wasn't he, Matsuda? Don't lie to me. I think I always kind of knew. After all, who else could have been Kira if not for Light? He's the only one that makes sense.'

Matsuda is almost relieved she worked it out on her own. Now he has less to hide.

'I'm sorry.'

Sayu seems quiet and unaffected. He can tell she's deep in thought. Hours pass before she finally speaks.

'If my brother was a king, I guess that kind of makes me royalty. Don't you think?'

* * *

Sayu discovers the only colour good enough for her paintings and splatters them haphazardly with it. Matsuda finds her with slit wrists and blood all over everything.

'Isn't it great?' she breathes, in response to the look of horrified disbelief on Matsuda's face. 'I found it. The right colour. The one that's good enough.'

There is something like excitement on her face and in her voice as she speaks. Everything that had been calm and quiet about her is now gone and has been replaced with passion and barely-contained enthusiasm.

Loudly, hysterically, Sayu declares, 'I still love Light, Matsuda. Even though he was Kira, I still love him. Maybe he was right. Maybe the world would be better his way. I don't know. He was my brother, I have to support him. He would have supported me if our roles were reversed.'

Matsuda does not know how to deal with this. He doesn't even know how to deal with his own problems. 'Sayu, you have to calm down.'

Sayu ignores him. 'Why would anyone kill my brother, Matsuda? He was only trying to do the right thing. He was trying to protect people. Everyone liked Kira. Why would someone try to kill him? Didn't they know he was my brother? He was Light and he was my brother.'

She weeps and smears her wrists all over the wall. Everything is red and good enough. The blood shows her passion.

Matsuda cannot handle this. Fighting to remain calm, he goes to her and holds her tightly, restraining her arms and forcing her to look him in the eye.

'Sayu, I'm sorry. It was me. I had to. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'

Everything stops.

….

….

….

'...What?'

Matsuda takes a deep breath. He hates every part of this. He wishes things weren't so fucking complicated.

'I shot your brother. I'm sorry. I had to.'

Sayu stares at him. Everything in her expression is blank.

'I'm so sorry,' he repeats.

Nothing.

Finally, slowly, she says two words.

'Get out.'

Matsuda releases her. 'I'm sorry. I had to. He was going to kill us.'

'Please, Matsuda, just leave.'

When she shuts the door behind him he hears all the locks clicking into place.

Matsuda goes home and sobs his fucking heart out.

* * *

**This ended up being a LOT darker than I intended. It sort of just happened. It's also really long and I don't know if it really belongs in this drabble collection so I might make it as its own separate fic later. I kind of just got the idea and went with it. I would really appreciate your thoughts on this one. Thank you for reading!**

**~Ratt Kazamata, 2/23/2014**


	3. Obsession

**As some of you already know, I really like Beyond. He's such a sick son of a bitch. This prompt seemed to make sense for him.**

* * *

_Summary: Beyond meets L for the first time, sparking his obsession with the detective._

* * *

**+obsession+**

L walks down one of the many hallways in Wammy's House on the way to his old bedroom. He is tired, hungry, and has just endured a thirteen hour flight to get here. He is only staying for a day or two before he has to fly out to the location of his next case, and he wants to spend the limited free time he does have sleeping. He is thankful it is late; Roger isn't around to disturb him, or, god forbid, make an attempt at conversation.

He is almost halfway to his room when a short, dark haired boy comes up from behind him and taps him on the shoulder.

'You're L.'

L turns to him but keeps walking. He doesn't have time for these deductions. 'Why aren't you in your room asleep?' L asks, not slowing his pace. 'It's very late.' The last thing he wants is to have to deal with a child.

'I saw you coming in through my window. I knew I just had to meet you.' The orphan has to practically jog to keep up with L's stride.

L grunts. There is no way someone can know for sure he's L just from looking at him. 'And what makes me so important?'

'I'm B. I'm going to be you one day.' The child's eyes burn brightly and seem to almost have a reddish tint to them. L sighs. So this is one of his successors. He is much too exhausted to deal with this right now.

'Is that so? Perhaps I am no one. You wouldn't want to aspire to be nothing, would you?'

'If I had aspired to be nothing I wouldn't be second in line for your title. No, I know you're L. And I know your real name.'

Finally, L stops walking and studies him. 'And how might you know that?'

'I know everyone's name. I just know. I'm pretty impressive. I'll make a good you, Lawli. You'd be very proud of me if you could see what I can do. All I need is a chance to show you that I'm better than your pathetic _Alternate_. Let me show you why I deserve to be first.'

L stares at B for a long time. The use of his name has deeply unsettled him and alarms are blaring in his mind loud as sirens. He has to look away from the disturbing red eyes.

'I don't...find that wise,' L tells him, slowly. 'Alternate is first for a reason. He was found to be more intelligent and capable. He is my first choice.'

'But I'm _better_.'

'That is not for you to decide, Backup. Now, if you'll excuse me...' L resumes walking, quicker now.

'I'll prove you wrong, L,' B says after him. 'I'll show you what I'm capable of.'

* * *

Years later, Beyond Birthday sits in prison, skin nearly charred to the bone, and he wonders if he proved L wrong yet.

* * *

**Ugh, I think my ability to write Beyond Birthday died after The Colour White. I really don't like this one but I did try to make it okay. Thank you for reading though and review anyway?**

**~Ratt Kazamata, 2/24/2014**


	4. Making History

I didn't have classes or work today so I spent a lot of time sitting around doing nothing. Here's another one.

* * *

_Summary: No one ever considered that maybe Alternate didn't _want_ to make history._

* * *

_**+making history+**_

When Alternate's parents were still alive and her life was normal, the torment she received because of her intelligence was relentless. She was a freak, an alien among humans. No one liked to be made to feel inferior, and that was always the consequence of her superior mind. She didn't talk to people. She didn't try to make friends. She started answering questions wrong on purpose just to fit in. She pretended not to understand.

Then her parents died and a kind older gentleman took her to his orphanage. He told her that she didn't need to hide her intelligence here. He told her that everyone here was just like her. They were all aliens and that was perfectly okay.

At first she was thrilled. Alternate could be herself and no one cared that she possessed a brain rivaling that of Einstein. Everyone else had a brain rivaling that of someone or other.

Then the detective L came up with a test to determine the smartest among them. Alternate didn't think it was important and she answered to the best of her ability. Her score was leagues ahead of her friends and no one liked that because they all wanted to be first in line to take L's place.

'You're going to make history,' everyone told her. As though it was a good thing. As though it wasn't horrible, lonely, unbearable.

B had placed second. He despised her. She didn't think anyone wanted the title more than B did. He didn't realize that she would have given it to him if she was able.

Now Alternate sat in a tiny back room of the orphanage, the rain falling relentlessly on the roof. It almost sounded like the room might cave in on top of her. But she stopped being scared long ago. She wasn't allowed to be scared anymore. Fear was unbecoming for someone of her status.

She missed having friends.

All she wanted was to fit in without having to hide her intelligence. She would have rather been born dumb as a doorknob. Anything would be better than this.

She had these thoughts in mind as she secured the noose around the balcony railing. No one had ever considered that maybe she didn't _want_ to make history. No one had ever considered her at all.

She wasn't allowed to be afraid. She wasn't allowed to hesitate.

So she didn't. She tightened the knot around her neck and let herself fall.

That was the only thing Wammy's House had ever taught her.

* * *

I don't know why I made Alternate a girl in this one but it just seemed to fit. Thank you so much for reading and reviews make me very happy!

~Ratt Kazamata, 2/24/2014


	5. Illogical

_Summary: This story is illogical._

* * *

_**+illogical+**_

_we_

_are all_

_falling in_

_reverse_

The once bright sparks of enthusiasm have long gone grey and the world has become quite achromatic in the absence of opposition. The game is over and Kira reigns unchallenged, endless days passing while he sits rhythmically tapping his desk with a pen now little used. There is no new tale to tell. Every city is free of sin and sinners and the only villain in this tangled fairytale is time, time and its nefarious act of passing. Kira and his queen have both outlived their age and they dance to a muted tune hoping it will keep them hidden. Their time is flickering with more frequency than the failing streetlights in the city beneath the city.

Kira has not seen the crow in days.

_this is_

_only the end of the_

_story_

_why why_

_why does everyone always forget the_

_beginning_

_it's more interesting anyway_

All the streets are deserted and Kira wonders where everyone has gone. Where people once feared criminals they now fear the penalty of violating convention, but he pretends he doesn't know that. His world is supposed to be perfect, safe. It gets dreamed that way, but it is not something that was meant to last forever in the real world.

_come back_

_and_

_talk to me once_

_you have_

_forgotten the_

_end_

Every morning the crow flies to his window, bringing with it a trail of broken nails and malonic feathers. Kira can't help but imagine it with a chain around its foot. It stares at him as if to say, 'I thought flying would be harder.'

_when we_

_throw you back_

_the_

_flowers fold protecting_

_soft_

_skulls_

This is the moment that wasn't. No one wants to think about it, so it doesn't exist. They breathe it out for good, undoing the crime and leaving the rest to silence. Life moves on.

* * *

I really don't like this one at all but I don't know how to fix it. It is too far gone to be saved. I have the flu so I'm a bit groggy and ugh. Thanks for reading though.

Also, I've been working a lot on adding to my Death Note fanfiction archive community. Check it out if you'd like!

~Ratt Kazamata, 3/04/2014


	6. Eternity

Warning: Extremely shitty writing ahead.

* * *

_Summary: Eternity in nothingness pretty much sucks._

* * *

_**+eternity+**_

Light is drowning, so he holds his breath, but that doesn't really make any sense because there is no water anyway and it's not like he actually needs to breathe because he's not even alive in the first place. He feels like he might be falling and has been for a very long time, maybe even since before he was born, and the nothingness he felt in life doesn't even compare to the nothingness he feels in death because somehow being dead is more intense than being alive even though that doesn't even make sense. Nothing about death particularly makes sense, especially the experience of it.

He cannot seem to move and he cannot seem to stay still; he feels as though he is both flying into the sky and freefalling out of it, and for some reason it makes him feel nauseous despite having no stomach or even a body to call his own. It feels almost worse than being alive.

Somewhere in the chaotic quiet, Ryuk's laughter fills the ears he doesn't possess. "Welcome to mu, Light, you'll be here for eternity."

* * *

This is really short and pretty shitty, but I decided it's been a long time without an update so I should get on that. I've been spending a lot of time working on a Death Note oneshot that should have been finished weeks ago but it's taking a lot longer than I thought. Hopefully that'll be published soon.

BY THE WAY. I've been adding tons of really good Death Note fics to my community (you can access it on my profileeeee) and on the list I have directly on my profile AND YOU GUYS SHOULD CHECK IT OUT BECAUSE THERE ARE SOME REALLY AMAZING WRITERS (LIKE WAY WAY WAY BETTER THAN ME) ON HERE AND THEY DESERVE RECOGNITION WOOHOO. Also it's better than scrolling through miles and miles of fics that aren't very good (such as this one. Like why are people even still reading this. It is a piece of shit.).

Anyyyway, reviews are greatly appreciated and thank you for reading!

~Ratt Kazamata, 3/24/2014


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